


The Biter Bit

by edenbound



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Genderfluid Character, Genderfluid Crowley (Good Omens), M/M, non-binary Crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-11 15:10:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19930093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edenbound/pseuds/edenbound
Summary: Crowley is a vision in flouncy lacy skirts, and Aziraphale is not above taking the bait. (But who is really caught?)





	The Biter Bit

**Author's Note:**

> Again for my wife, because this week is not our friend.
> 
> Crowley is not explicitly enby/genderfluid -- it felt superfluous to say so in the shortness of the fic. Nonetheless, I consider it implicit; this Crowley isn't cross-dressing. He looks and feels lovely, because he is and he's comfortable; this is exactly what he feels like wearing right now. The dress Crowley is wearing is probably from around the 1850s-1860s from [this timeline](https://mymodernmet.com/womens-fashion-history/), but you can imagine it in any timeline or location you want, of course!

Crowley feels like a tiered cake, all lace and flounce and trailing ribbons. It's a ridiculous confection, but it fits him like a glove, and the colours complement his red curls, and Aziraphale can't take his eyes off him. There's nothing as heady as that feeling, no wine or drug, that compares to the way Aziraphale's attention is all for him. Well. Except perhaps the way Aziraphale's hand brushed his bare arm a moment ago, a quick shock of skin on skin amidst the silk and lace and the elbow-length gloves.

Others are staring at him as well, covetousness and longing laced with a heady dose of spite. At any other time, Crowley would be relishing that, relishing the confused and near-angry undercurrents in the room, but right now it fades behind the weight of Aziraphale's regard, the blue eyes positively _fixed_ on him, on the dress and the way it moves.

Aziraphale takes his hand when they are properly introduced, and gallantly raises it to his lips. That's commonplace enough for this place and time. It's what he whispers that is startling and sweet, a victory and a defeat all in one.

"Can I tempt you?" he asks, silently.

It is the first time he has been the tempter, the first time he's taken the lead in their little dance. It is an _exquisite_ moment, and Crowley lets it show on his face before he inclines his head to a balcony, the door of which will mysteriously unlock and relock behind them. There is another delicious tickle of jealousy from the young man beside Aziraphale, and Crowley gives him a poisonous smile.

If he's a little too eager for this -- if this capitulation makes his heart sing a little more than your average temptation should, well. Crowley can pretend it is because this is an angel, after all. It's a good temptation, _craftsmanship_ , and he should be proud of it. Crowley is skilled in deception, even of himself, and it is easier to pretend to guard one's heart than to admit that it has already been irrevocably given. But maybe his smile gives it away, just a little, if you look right.

Aziraphale is looking.


End file.
